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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054584">Dinner and Drinks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ce_in_sp4ce/pseuds/4ce_in_sp4ce'>4ce_in_sp4ce</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Inception (2010)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Minor Injuries, Pre-Relationship, accidental (sorta) hand holding, pining Eames (even if he doesn't want to admit it), wound care</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:33:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,881</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054584</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ce_in_sp4ce/pseuds/4ce_in_sp4ce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur finished wrapping Eames’ forearm and moved down to his hand, wiping away the dried blood carefully. Eames looked away, feeling a blush creep into his cheeks. It was stupid, really; his hands honestly were a mess and Arthur was just patching them up. Nothing more than that. Which was fine. It wasn’t like he <em>wanted</em> it to be anything more than that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arthur/Eames (Inception)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>112</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dinner and Drinks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eames watched the street down below closely, careful to keep out of full view. He didn’t <em>think</em> they’d been followed to the safehouse, but if they had he didn’t want to make himself a target and get shot. He’d had enough of getting shot at for the day. </p><p>He'd thought the job had gone well, too, up until the shooting started. They'd gotten the information from the mark and gotten out without any major issues. Even the delivery of the information to their employer had gone well. He'd thought the job was over with; nothing particularly challenging, not after the sort of jobs they'd done before, but sometimes easy, well paying jobs were a nice break.</p><p>He and Arthur had been on their way back to the hotel when they'd been attacked. The cab had crashed almost immediately, leaving the two of them to pull themselves out and take off on foot, trying to avoid bullets as they ran. Arthur had luckily known a safehouse in the area that he and Cobb had used previously; it was rundown but they didn't need a five star hotel, just a place to lay low.</p><p>“Any sign of them?”</p><p>“No, I think we managed to lose them.” Eames continued watching the street for a few more seconds before sighing and drawing the curtains closed. “Going outside any time soon probably isn’t a great idea, but we should be okay as long as we lay low for a bit.”</p><p>Arthur nodded, turning off the sink and drying his hands. He seemed to have managed to get most of the blood off them, though his clothes still had various red stains on them. Thankfully most of the blood didn’t seem to be his. Eames supposed that probably shouldn’t be as comforting as it was, but it was good to see that Arthur at least didn’t seem to be particularly badly injured. “Not ideal, but we can make it work.” He sat down at the small table, rifling through the first aid kit sitting on top of it. “Come on, you need to get patched up.”</p><p>Eames frowned. He tried to resist the urge to look back out the window for a moment before giving in and nudging the curtains back just enough to be able to see out into the street. “I’m fine.”</p><p>Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Your arm’s still bleeding and your hands look like you punched through a window. I can feel an infection setting in just looking at it.” He motioned to the chair beside him and went back to sorting through the first aid kit, carefully laying supplies out in front of him. “Now sit down.”</p><p>Eames sighed and walked over, glancing down at his hands. He supposed they were pretty cut up. He hadn’t <em>exactly</em> punched through a window, but there had been enough shattered glass when the car had crashed that the effect had been basically the same. “I can bandage my own cuts, you know. I’ve had enough injuries to know how to do that.”</p><p>“Then you’ve had enough to know that bandaging hand wounds is difficult and best left to someone else. Besides,” Arthur started rolling Eames’ sleeve up, “we both know I’m better at cleaning and taking care of injuries than you are anyways.”</p><p>Eames frowned again. “No you’re not.”</p><p>“I’m more methodical than you are and, like it or not, that’s definitely a good thing when it comes to this.”</p><p>Eames sighed in resignation; there wasn’t going to be any talking Arthur out of this. He glanced back over at the window as Arthur began wiping the blood off his forearm with a damp cloth. “How do you think the mark found us?”</p><p>“Probably paid off someone on the team.”</p><p>“You’re so trusting and optimistic, Arthur. It’s really your best trait.”</p><p>“Are you disagreeing?”</p><p>“Oh no, that’s definitely the most likely option. I’m just making an observation. It’s not-<em>ah</em>.” He winced as Arthur began cleaning the cut on his arm itself. </p><p>Arthur glanced up apologetically. “You alright?”</p><p>“Yeah, you just caught me off guard is all.”</p><p>Arthur started cleaning the cut again, but with less pressure this time. “Honestly, this is deep enough that you probably need stitches.”</p><p>“I have at least 4 warrants out in my name here and we just had a group of people try and kill us in broad daylight, I’m <em>not</em> going to the hospital.” Eames watched Arthur with sudden suspicion. “And I’m <em>definitely</em> not letting you anywhere near me with a needle.”</p><p>Arthur chuckled. “I wasn’t even going to offer.”</p><p>“Good.” As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Arthur really was better at patching up wounds than Eames was. Eames was decent enough at it, anyone who’d been in this business for as long as he had was, but Arthur cleaned and began wrapping the cut with a swift confidence that was honestly impressive. “You know, you’d have made a decent doctor if you weren’t a criminal.”</p><p>“Hm. That would’ve required me to develop a bedside manner, and I think we can both agree that’s not exactly a strong suit of mine.”</p><p>“What? You? Not being friendly? I’m <em>shocked</em>.”</p><p>“Piss off.” Eames could see Arthur grinning, even though he was clearly trying to hide it. He finished wrapping Eames’ forearm and moved down to his hand, wiping away the dried blood carefully. Eames looked away, feeling a blush creep into his cheeks. It was stupid, really; his hands honestly were a mess and Arthur was just patching them up. Nothing more than that. Which was fine. It wasn’t like he <em>wanted</em> it to be anything more than that. “Any plans once we get out of this mess?”</p><p>Eames shrugged, still pointedly looking over at the window. “Probably just lay low for a while. Maybe head back to the States, find a job there.” He shrugged again. “Nothing set in stone though. You?”</p><p>“I’d been planning on sticking around here for a few weeks, but that’s obviously out now so I’m not sure.” Arthur paused. “The States don’t sound like a terrible idea, actually. Maybe drop in and see Cobb.”</p><p>“It’s been a bit, hasn’t it?”</p><p>“Yeah, it has.” Arthur began wrapping Eames’ hand gently, sighing slightly. “Wherever you end up, I’d avoid taking a job for at least a few weeks. Your hands really are pretty cut up, and you should let them heal first.”</p><p>Eames nodded, finally looking back at Arthur. It still caught him off guard sometimes how gentle Arthur could be when he wanted to. He was so used to his calm brusqueness, sometimes bordering on abrasiveness, that moments like these always managed to surprise him. He cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks getting warm again. “What about you? You’ve got enough blood on your shirt to be concerning.”</p><p>Arthur shrugged, continuing to carefully wrap the bandage around Eames’ hand. “I’m fine. Mostly just small cuts from the glass.” He tied off the gauze and reached for Eames’ other hand, grabbing the damp cloth again. “I’ll be sore for a few days, but it looks worse than it is.”</p><p>Eames sighed. “Is this going to be like that time in St. Petersburg where you insisted you were fine and then we found out three days later that you had a concussion?”</p><p>“In my defense, I really <em>did</em> think I was fine at first when that happened. It’s hard to properly evaluate how you are when you have a concussion.”</p><p>Eames raised an eyebrow. “If that was supposed to help convince me you’re fine, I’d rethink your method. If anything, I think I’m less likely to trust you on that now than I was before.”</p><p>Arthur rolled his eyes, but Eames could see him trying not to grin. “Your concern is noted.” </p><p>He started bandaging the cuts with the same meticulous care as before and Eames looked back over towards the window, feeling increasingly stupid as the heat in his cheeks grew. This was a stupid thing to be blushing over, he knew that. He and Arthur had been working jobs together increasingly often recently though, and the more time they spent together the more he found himself enjoying Arthur’s company. They had always tended to butt heads but the more they worked together the more Eames had come to appreciate Arthur’s intelligence and intense focus. He could definitely be a stick in the mud but he also had a quick, if very dry, sense of humor and was surprisingly friendly once you got past the aloof sarcasm. And while he’d always considered Arthur to be attractive- they may not have gotten along but Eames <em>did</em> have eyes- it was…different now that he knew him better. </p><p>“You know, I was thinking.”</p><p>Eames blinked, Arthur’s voice startling him out of his thoughts. He looked back over, hoping his face wasn’t too red. “Oh?”</p><p>“We’ll have to stay here a few days to let things die down, but afterwards it might be nice to get a drink or something.” Arthur was looking down, expression hidden, but his movements seemed more hesitant as he spoke. “Once things calm down enough.”</p><p>“A drink?” Eames definitely wasn’t opposed to grabbing a drink with Arthur, but the suggestion was admittedly a bit surprising; Arthur had never been one to socialize much outside of jobs, not even with Cobb. </p><p>“Yeah. We’ve been working a lot of jobs together recently and I thought it might be nice to, you know, spend some time together outside of that.” Arthur shrugged, still looking down. “If you wanted to.”</p><p>“You’re…asking me out for drinks?”</p><p>Arthur shot him a quick glare. “Don’t make this weird.” He looked back down, focusing back on wrapping the gauze. “Never mind, forget I asked.”</p><p>“No, i-it’s fine. I mean, yeah. Drinks sound great.” Eames grinned. He was definitely blushing, but Arthur was looking a bit red himself so he didn’t feel as bad about it anymore. “I’m just a bit surprised you like me enough to even consider it.”</p><p>“You’re…not as bad as I previously thought.”</p><p>Eames laughed. “That’s glowing praise coming from you.” Arthur muttered something under his breath, which just made Eames laugh harder. He couldn't see Arthur's expression now that he was looking back down, but if his face was the same shade as his ears currently were then he was blushing quite a bit. Eames didn't think he'd ever seen Arthur this flustered, and he decided it was a look he rather liked. "Seriously though, drinks sound great." </p><p>Arthur nodded as he tied the bandage off. "Something to look forward to then."</p><p>Eames paused, debating his next words briefly. "Maybe some dinner too?" Might as well go for it while he had the opportunity. </p><p>Arthur smiled at him as he straightened back up, fingers lingering on Eames' hand for a moment before he stood up and walked back over to the sink. "That'd be nice."</p><p>Eames smiled back. "It's a date then."</p><p>"A date." Arthur paused as he turned the water on. "I like the sound of that."  </p><p>Eames watched him, still grinning widely. He knew he was blushing something awful, but the prospect of an actual date with Arthur made that seem inconsequential. Maybe today wasn’t so terrible after all. “Yeah, me too.”</p>
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